Love Hurts. JJ Keller

falling into his eyes.

      Sister Magdalene sat on the floor and waved him over. He immediately ran, pivoted and sat on her lap. She pulled off the too-tight footwear and slipped on the boot. The left shoe hit the floor with a thud and the second cowboy rider was secured in place.

      “Now then, give them a try.”

      Justin stood and clomped around a small section of flooring. They were too big.

      “Mommy?” His anxious, sweet face begged her to take them.

      “The way he’s been growing, Shania, they’ll fit in a few weeks. They’re gently used.” Sister Magdalene rose, grabbed a red bandana, and wrapped it around Justin’s neck. She directed him to stand in front of the mirror.

      He was adorable. Too bad Halloween had passed. “How much are they?”

      “Five dollars.” The sister smoothed Justin’s hair. “The bandana is a gift.”

      Shania could eat peanut butter sandwiches for a few nights and Justin loved cereal. Thirteen more days and she’d have cash once again.

      “We’ll take them.” She smiled at Justin who proceeded to whoop and clack around the space, swaggering like a cowboy. “Thank you, Sister.”

       Her fingers dug through her backpack, searching the four pockets and coming up empty. Finally, in the center, tucked in a small space, was the five dollar bill. She laid it on the counter. The ting of the antique cash register sounded as the drawer popped out. Shania picked up his tennis shoes. He’d want to wear the boots home today.

      The time it took to get back to their apartment doubled as he slipped and slid on the oversized footwear. She couldn’t deny him the pleasure of owning the waders, and his small toes deserved a break.

      * * * *

      The next day Sister Agnes opened the door to the nursery with a frown on her wrinkled face. Crap, she didn’t look happy. The news would not be good.

      “Miss Miller, Justin has been complaining of his feet hurting.” Large knuckled fingers shoved glasses higher on her age-spotted nose.

      “I’m sorry, Sister. Not to make excuses, but the mission store didn’t have something his size. We did find a pair of boots, but they’re too large. I’ll buy him a pair of shoes in a few days. Until then, can he wear slippers to school?” Heat rushed to her face. She tried to tell herself she was a good mother, a good provider. Her shoulders slumped forward. She hadn’t planned very well.

      “If cash is a problem we have a fund for indigents. We’ll ask Father Michael to give you some money to buy him shoes.” Sister Agnes’s foul breath flowed over Shania’s face.

      “No,” Shania barked.

      The nun took a step back. Her pale trembling fingers grabbed the cross on her rosary.

      Justin ran forward, a frown on his face. Hands on his hips he faced Sister Agnes.

      “I’m sorry, Sister. I can take care of my son. It’s simply a matter of timing.” She shrugged. “His feet grew too fast and my money is tied up in a CD. In twelve days the first thing I’ll buy will be shoes.”

      Shania held her arm across her stomach. Self-doubt sent a horrible ripping cramp through her, chilling her. She could provide for her son and she would.

      “Shania.” Her voice was firm and low.

      Shania lifted her glance to meet Sister Agnes’s dark gaze.

      “Normally we don’t reduce fees, although I think we can in this one case. You only bring Justin for one hour and thirty minutes on Friday. Why don’t you talk to your friends, see if they can watch him during that class time? You’ll be paying twenty dollars less a week.” She dropped the cross then touched the side of Shania’s face. “You’re a good mother. You provide excellent care for your son.”

      “Thank you, Sister.” She grabbed Justin’s hand. “I’ll see what I can do.”

      Outside the church she lifted Justin. Guilt-ridden, she carried him home. “Please, God, will this struggle ever end?”